


impossible year

by aquariuslester (geminidaniel)



Series: dsmp headcanons [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Minecraft - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, dreamnotfound - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Best Friends, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canon Rewrite, Canon Universe, Character Death, Death, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Team SMP Spoilers, During Canon, Emotional Manipulation, Friendship, Gen, Headcanon, Headcanon Accepted, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Manipulative Relationship, Mild Blood, Mind Manipulation, No Romance, No shipping, Other, Teenagers, kinda??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geminidaniel/pseuds/aquariuslester
Summary: tubbo and tommy go to meet dream for the discs. but it's the bad ending.ORthe finale but my headcanon; it's mostly compliant i guessimpossible year by panic at the disco
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: dsmp headcanons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119860
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	impossible year

"tubbo, this might be the last time we get to walk down this path."

"d'you think anyone will say goodbye to us?"

"i don't know. it's not like they owe us anything, really."

tommy walked slowly down the wooden path, looking gravely at the inconsistent coloring of the planks, weathered and discolored with scars of war. wars that still kept tommy up at night, where he would sit on their bench alone, reliving every explosion, every scream, every bloodied body in front of him that was screaming his name, telling him what he could have done differently, where nothing went wrong.

tubbo trailed behind him, the first to notice the figures lining either side of where they were walking.

"tommy, is that everyone over there? are they waiting for us?"

the solemn feeling lifted off of tommy's shoulders momentarily when he looked up. everyone was there, watching the two of them make their way down to the eventual wilderness, the unexplored.

bad was the first person they encountered. they spoke with him for a bit, tubbo laughing at tommy's quips to bad's sheepish jabs at the way he spoke. his voice was soft and sincere, even meditative. even if tommy didn't like him, tubbo thought bad was pretty cool. he didn't want to think about never hearing him scold tommy again.

they walked down, saying their goodbyes to everyone. it was bittersweet, or maybe just bitter. tubbo couldn't tell.

tubbo was excited to talk to sam. tommy broke off to go see quackity further back where they had already been. sam smiled gently and tubbo noticed his hands were holding something behind his back.

"what've you got behind you, sam?"

"i just wanted to bring you some stuff before you go. i know it's not much, but it was all i could get in the short notice."

his hands reach out to tubbo. one held a cloudy potion, and the other held a carefully-stacked pile of small pumpkin pies.

tubbo giggled and took the presents happily, slipping the potion and most of the pies into his bag.

"you still have the pumpkin pies we made together?"

"yeah. and the potion is turtle master. if things get sticky with you and dream. i have one for tommy, too. i'll give it to him when he comes back."

"thank you, sam. i--" he looked back into sam's eyes and his voice broke for a moment. "i'll miss you. but i'll try to make it back in one piece, okay?"

sam gave him a knowing smile with sad eyes.

"that's all you can do, tubbo. i'll be waiting for you. i know you can do it. i believe in you."

\---

tommy's energy was tense and scared as they got into a small boat together, an affection tubbo had to adapt to during their fight for independence. that war felt so simple, so trivial back then. it also felt so _long_ ago.

it had only been a couple months, but it felt like it had been centuries since tommy was next to tubbo, since wilbur was standing behind both of them with a proud grin.

tommy's compass was heavy and shone in the bright moonlight above them. the red arrow wobbled before straightening out, pointing west.

tubbo laid back in the boat as tommy rowed forward. the night was dark and tubbo let his fingers run through the cold water they were passing through.

"are we there yet?"

tommy cracked a smile and rolled his eyes, shifting the weighted compass in his right hand.

"you're such an idiot, you know that?"

and then they both laughed. the rising in their chests almost canceled out the fear sinking their hearts. the moon was illuminating their path, drawing a wavy white line in the clear ocean water.

and everything felt alright for a moment.

it reminded tubbo of when it was just him and tommy, sitting together on their bench and listening to tommy's discs. he smiled to himself as the memories flooded back to him. when they would sit there for lunch, eating together and watching life below their cliff and railing. or when the rain would beat down on tommy's roof, and they would sit inside and trade stories. when dream would come to visit, poking fun at tommy's living situation, digging through his chests lightheartedly. when the boys would fall asleep on the bench next to each other in their war uniforms, the continuous exhaustion of battles and negotiations culminating to unplanned naps in the small free time they had together.

the discs. dream. the war.

tubbo's nose scrunched up at the subconscious acknowledgement he made; that it was always him and tommy, but it was also the discs. the reason they were on this impossible journey across land and sea to see dream, alone.

the fuzzy feelings dissipated and tubbo was again laying in the cramped, wooden vessel. his shield was poking into his side and the potions in his bag were making clinking and sloshing sounds as they bumped into each other. tommy's navigation had never been the best.

"d'you want me to take a turn rowing?"

"no tubbo, it's okay. we should be close now anyway."

the older boy nodded and sat up, adjusting his things. when he looked back up, they were moving towards a towering, intimidating mountain.

"holy shit," tommy muttered. 

the boat sat idly in the swaying waves. stray water splashed over the edge, leaving droplets on tubbo's armor and soaking the top of his bag. he worried for a moment about the pies sam had given him.

"holy shit, indeed," tubbo responded.

\---

"tommy."

dream's voice was eerily controlled and tame. tubbo's stomach turned when he said tommy's name, but looked at him instead.

"tommy," he repeated, sword at his side and his shield hanging off his other arm. "tommy, you have to choose. the discs or tubbo."

"w-what?"

"you only get one. either you give me the discs," he glanced behind him at the ender chest with tubbo next to it, "or tubbo dies."

tommy stood in shocked silence for a moment. tubbo stared over at tommy concernedly.

"you can't do that."

"oh, i can. and i will." despite the mask covering his features, the two boys could hear the evil smile dripping in every decibel of dream's voice.

tommy grabbed for his sword, giving tubbo a knowing glance before he ran forward, his sword out as he aimed for dream's chest. he missed, scratching dream's dark armor on his left shoulder.

dream didn't even flinch. he only braced with his left foot behind him, pushing back against tommy's comparatively weak thrust with his shield. the force pushed tommy to the ground, the dirt and exposed stone colliding with his back in a way that made him cry out in pain.

he heard tubbo make a pained yelp as he saw tommy fall, but he quickly got back on his feet. he grabbed one of the potions from his bag and drank it hurriedly.

dream laughed, throwing his head back. "you idiot, i'm not even using potions yet! you really think you can _win_?"

"tommy, stop!"

the two stopped fighting to look over at the person who screamed.

tubbo's eyes were filled with tears. he looked first at dream, then down at tommy, then back up at dream. the axe in his hand dropped to the ground at his feet.

"tommy, give him the discs."

dream stepped away, a hidden smirk spreading over his face. he put his sword away and yet again let the shield he held dangle under his elbow.

"you heard him tommy."

"tubbo, what the fuck?" the smaller boy walked over to tommy, putting his hand on his friend's forearm.

"it's gonna be okay. i lived enough of my life. i'm ready to go." the words were chilling coming from tubbo's mouth. it didn't sound right to hear a death wish in the boy's voice, the vocals that always sound so positive.

"but _i'm_ not ready for you to go."

"well, i don't know if that's up to us now."

dream chuckled.

"this is so sweet, between you two. here, i'll make you a deal."

he grabs for his shovel, quickly digging into the loose soil beneath them. when he hit stone, he stopped.

"tommy," he said, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck, "put your items in the hole."

the air between the three stood still. it felt like time had stopped. the wind wasn't blowing, the trees' leaves weren't rustling. even the ocean behind them wasn't roaring with waves like it was when they first arrived.

"d-dream..." tommy's voice was hoarse and shaken. he stared blankly into the hole, his features unchanging as tears fell onto the uneven patches of grass he stood on.

"put them in the hole."

tubbo reached out to put his hand on tommy's shoulder but the boy pulled away, flinching at the sudden movement. his breathing was irregular, his throat closing in on itself, rendering him speechless.

he didn't want to go back there.

he could already smell the fresh grass, taste the bitter saltiness of the sea he spent so long living next to. he shivered subconsciously thinking about wilbur's ghost passing through him on those lonely nights, the kind of nights where he looked out onto the sea from his tent and wished he was someone else. those nights seemed more and more frequent as the days passed. dream would come by during the day, hardly bothering to question the condition of tommy's clothes or appearance. he would look into the dark circles around the boy's eyes and ask him what he had eaten that day.

it was always the same. dream would come see him, bringing with him stories of the reformed l'manberg. they would laugh together, chopping down and replanting trees in the bright plains that faced the vast sea. the sun would begin to set, and tommy went to sleep to the sound of a small explosion every night.

the aching feeling in tommy's chest during those weeks always confused him. _this was all he wanted, right?_ he wanted to live somewhere stable, somewhere he'd built from the ground up, doing homely, mundane tasks until he rotted away and became one with the dirt and grass he started his life on.

that's what the wars were for, weren't they? to be free, to be alone?

if that's the case, why did he feel so painfully guilty? why did he sit on the beach when he couldn't sleep and draw patterns into the sand, retracing his steps that he made in every battle, over-analyzing every interaction until the sand was nothing but a mess of incoherent dips and curves? why did he start to flinch when he heard explosions, his heart sinking as he looked behind him to see a creeper had exploded near his tent?

why did it start to hurt when dream came over the hill in the dawn, the same smile on his mask becoming unnerving as dirt and cracks settled over the wooden circle covering his features?

it didn't make sense.

_what changed?_

_was it his fault?_

_was it really all his fault?_

"fine. be like that. tubbo, put your things in the hole." dream's orders rang through his ears, pulling him out of his tunnel back into the present.

"do i have to?" the older boy glanced down at the axe in his grasp, frowning at the idea of having to part with something he cherished so much. he again thought of the pies sam had given to him, and the potion he had taken so long to gather supplies for. sam wasn't one for potions, and tubbo could envision his immense patience and focus as he tried to follow the recipe exactly, afraid of messing things up. sam liked when things were perfect.

dream's response came in the form of a sharp blade cutting across tubbo's chest. his armor blocked most of the damage, but the sword's edges cut perfectly congruent lines into either of his forearms, and the push of thick metal against his ribs knocked the wind out of him momentarily. he felt the bruises forming already.

"okay, okay," he yelped, emptying the contents of his bag into the shallow grave. out of the corner of his eye, he saw a thickening stream of his own blood dripping from his gash onto the ground. some of it made it onto his armor, staining the dark gray material with crimson pockmarks. he watched painfully as sam's pies fell out first, soon being crushed and flattened by his other supplies. a few of the potion bottles shattered against the stone, their foggy shards decorating the rest of the items as the dark liquids traveled in streams down the stone, sinking into the soil.

"even my armor?"

"even your armor."

tubbo nodded dejectedly, slipping off each piece slowly, holding it up to stare at it as if to wish it a farewell. it was going away forever, after all.

when tubbo's things were all piled in the hole, dream turned to tommy.

"your turn, tommy."

"...i can't."

the sword was quickly back pointed at tubbo, the edges of the metal stained with the boy's blood. he suddenly felt very naked without his protective gear.

"t-tommy, just do it. i'm scared."

the shakiness of the words were enough to convince the taller boy, and he slowly parted with each of his own items, watching blankly as they met the same ground as tubbo's. he didn't feel anything in his chest as he performed the motions, the routine so starkly familiar and fresh in his mind that his stomach lurched, threatening to bring up every piece of fish, every bite of shining apple that he had taken on their journey.

_this was torture._

\---

"get on the platform."

"or what?"

dream rolled his eyes, growing tired of tommy's sharp tongue. he didn't want to have to repeat himself again.

"i _said_ , get on the platform. or i'll kill tubbo right now."

tommy hesitated. he looked over at tubbo stepping right into the lowered cross that they were in front of.

"tubbo! why did you just get on?"

"well, i mean, we're dead either way at this point, aren't we? figured i'd just make it easier."

"he's right." dream's tone made tommy flinch. he reluctantly stepped down next to his friend, dream joining them shortly after. he pressed a button hidden somewhere on the floor, and the three started to descend.

"what the fuck is happening?" the sound of the sophisticated contraption they were moving on almost canceled out tommy's stunned whisper.

"listen, tommy," dream started, his voice ringing out over the rhythmic clicks and shifts of the elevator, "ever since you joined us, you've been a headache. you brought war, you brought terrorism."

the tight walls surrounding them soon fell away, revealing a massive pit that they were steadily descending into. it was lined with darkened stone, bricks created of the same ash that rained down over the violet and black entrance into the nether, his only binding left to l'manberg, to everyone else.

"what the fuck?" tommy repeated, his legs beginning to feel weak under him as he looked down at the impossibly long drop. there were no guard rails, no safety measures on their platform. tommy pulled tubbo closer to him in the fear, and he could feel his friend's weight shift nervously.

the boys' eyes fell upon two beaming golden sections at the bottom. they were on either side of the large room, magnificent banners above them both. the illustration was the same on each canvas, a modernist approach to the two discs tommy and tubbo had come for in the first place. and on the golden floor, contrasting the bright shine of the precious metal, was the discs themselves. one on each of the two shrines.

"you've brought bad... everything," the oldest continued, "but, _but_ , the cause of all the war, of everything, was attachment, right? your attachment to the discs, your attachment to henry, to pets, to friends, to land, to country, to items. right?"

tommy tried to move forward, to get to the discs that seemed so impossibly far away from where they had landed, but dream stopped him with a gloved hand to his chest.

"sit still for a second. sit still."

"o-okay," tubbo murmured, his eyes focused on his feet. he was shaking, his arms wrapped around himself in an attempt to comfort the chills racking through his body.

dream turned back to tommy.

"that's the one good thing you've done. the one good thing you've done is you've brought attachment, to the land." he looked behind him at the discs, where tommy's eyes had been focused since they were in his field of vision.

"so it took me a long time, to understand how important attachment was, but when i did, it made me stronger, y'know? i realized that-- y-you're important, right? y'know what, come see your discs. they're right here."

he walked down and to the right, gesturing first to mellohi, then to the other stage, to cat.

"you can take the discs, put them in the ender chests over there, if you wanted to. i wouldn't personally, because then tubbo would die, but..." he trailed off, walking over to cat's platform.

tommy and tubbo locked eyes, their fear one and the same. dream just had a way of saying things so casually, making them sound so nonchalant that they started to sound unimportant and futile.

but tubbo wasn't unimportant. tubbo wasn't futile.

they followed him and he continued speaking.

"but, ever since attachment was here, i cut my attachment." the faceless man's voice got cold, and the sound of it sent shivers through tommy's chest and down his back. 

"w-what do you mean?"

dream stepped closer to tommy, his fingers adjusting the grip on his sword that hung limply at his side.

"i blew up my house, i lost my friends, i lost my items, i lost my crossbow, my-- y'know, everything that was important to me. i cut everything, because i realized that's what gave people power over each other. the reason you're here right now is because i have these dumb, little... items."

tommy tried to say something, but he couldn't form the ideas in his brain into coherent thoughts.

"i don't wanna be controlled, so i cut everything. i lost everything. but i _had_ to lose everything."

"but how do you not hurt?" tommy interrupted, but dream ignored him.

"i had to _lose_ everything to _gain_ everything."

"you didn't gain anything. you're a sick bastard." saying something like that to dream felt good in tommy's heart, but bitter and tasteless on his tongue.

"listen, if i can control the things that people are attached to," dream responded, his voice sounding like he was smiling, "then i can control the world again. i'm the one who started all this, right?"

the tone became uneven and staccato, and his once-moderate speech became crazed ravings. tommy looked to tubbo to his left and pulled him closer again, taking a cautionary step back.

"if i have everything that everybody cares about, that everybody's ever cared about, then i can control everything. i can make this place what it used to be."

tommy started yelling over him, complaining that it what dream had was never great, that it was never anything serious, when dream walked away, to a small hallway to the left of cat's special tribute.

"follow me. look, i have a place for everything." he walked down the hall, pointing out everything that held some sort of importance to every person they knew. he had fenceposts for pets, and he had empty item frames hung up, polished and ready to display the things that those people wouldn't dare to part with. he was trying to collect it all.

"in fact, i kept your axe. i have a place for it, right here." he adjusted one of the item frames, sliding the heavy weapon into the empty space. he stepped back to look at it for a moment before turning back to tommy.

"you are fucking crazy," tommy commented, but dream only continued listing the things he hoped to gain, to take from everyone he had once considered friends.

he noticed a small pen in the corner with a cow. he ran over, studying the animal's face and trying to read the tag connected to his right ear.

 ** _henry_**.

"this isn't real, is it? t-this isn't henry. i watched henry die."

dream's voice was instantly behind his head, scarily soothing and soft.

"i mean, did you really? was it the real henry? do you know? i don't know."

unmediated anger flowed through the younger boy's veins, burning into every muscle and tendon in his body.

"you're a monster, dream."

the other man laughed. his overly-confident chuckles bounced off the walls around them and made him sound even more villain-like than normal.

"listen, i'm gonna lock you away in that big, scary prison i had made. because i need you alive, for attachment."

tommy backed up slowly, until his shoulder hit the wall. behind him, he felt the weighted item frame. his axe. in a fit of confidence, tommy reached behind him, punching through the glass protecting the weapon and grabbing it by the handle. he pulled it out and turned around to face dream. his knuckles were stinging as small droplets of blood made their way to the surface of tommy's skin.

"you can't lock me up. i-i'll kill you."

dream was silent for a moment, and tommy was hoping he had made a change in the other man's demeanor. however, he only responded by turning to tubbo while he grabbed for his own axe.

tubbo knew what was going to happen before dream even moved. he braced as he felt the metal cut into his left arm, making a wound that went so deep it threatened to expose the bone underneath it. he fell back, his shoulders and spine hitting the wall behind him. he was surprised he was still standing, his legs feeling weak and borderline numb with the blood loss from just below his shoulder.

tommy quickly reacted, putting his axe back into the shattered slot behind him.

"look, tommy, i need you alive. but i _don't_ need tubbo."

"h-hey," the weaker boy muttered, feeling himself sink lower to the ground as his legs failed to hold his full weight. tommy looked over at him and felt a lump form in his throat at the pool of blood he was leaving on the floor, and the thick streak of thick red liquid smeared on the wall.

"listen, listen," dream murmured, walking over to tubbo to look back at tommy, "tubbo isn't fun. tubbo is a pawn, he's a follower. i've used him as much as i can, but, y'know, he's a little dr--"

tommy rushed over and shoved dream away. "tubbo's not a follower."

"he _is_ a follower!"

the two began yelling over each other, repeating the same phrases to see who could say it louder, as if the argument could be solved by whomever could raise their voice the most to make their point. but soon, they same to realize that the boy to their side was sliding further down. he was crumpled on the floor, holding his arm as blood continued flowing through his fingertips, staining everything around him a rich crimson.

"i mean, look. i'm not gonna go over this again with you. tubbo's a follower, okay?"

"he's not a fucking follower! you need tubbo as much as you need me." tommy stepped in front of his friend's crushed figure to protect him from dream.

"i don't need tubbo at all," he repeated.

"well because without tubbo, what am i, dickhead?" he pushed the tyrant back again, putting more force behind it this time, being able to put about a foot of distance between them.

dream sighed in frustration. "tommy, you wanna be a hero. but every hero needs an origin story, right? i mean, batman had his parents, spiderman had uncle ben," he paused, towering over tommy. "you can have tubbo."

silence settled over them as tommy stared at dream's unchanging mask. he struggled to find the words to convey his emotions.

"no, no. absolutely fucking not. no. what do you mean?"

they stare at each other for a moment before dream leans against the wall facing tubbo's body. he wasn't gone, but it was getting harder for him to move. the wound was still bleeding, and each second that passed made the boy's skin paler.

"tommy, i wanna give you your chance to say goodbye."

"what do you mean? i'm not saying goodbye. we're gonna get out of here. every time, everything-- we've got away, okay?"

" _you'll_ get out of here. it's tubbo's time to go."

"dream, are you being serious?"

"yes."

"listen, you can keep the discs, and me and tubbo will go, okay? i don't want the discs."

"tommy, i don't care about the discs. i already told you, i care about power. like i said, tubbo's a pawn."

"i'm not a pawn," tubbo whispered, his head pounding with emptiness. the warm blood in his hands was sharply contrasting his steadily cooling skin.

"he's a pawn. just say your goodbyes. i'll be by the portal."

dream stepped away, looking into the spiraling purple as tommy walked over to tubbo.

"tubbo?"

"yeah?" his voice was hoarse and it took him a considerable amount of time to lift his head to look at his friend.

"he's not gonna kill you. here's my idea: we make a break for the portal. we can make it. i'll carry you and he won't hurt me while i carry you. i still have the portal at the exile base, we can get through there and get back."

"eh, we'll be dead before we even get to the portal. too much of a distance." it made tommy uncomfortable seeing tubbo so pessimistic, his skin sickly pale against the blackened walls.

"it's alright, we had some laughs. it was... it was fun while it lasted."

"what? why have you just accepted it now? don't just accept it, now. c'mon tubbo, we never accept defeat."

"we can't go down any more, we don't have anything to make our way out. we don't have pickaxes to dig out, and he's blocking the portal. yeah, it's over. it was fun, we had some laughs. all good things must come to an end."

tommy squatted down to tubbo's level, putting his hand on the smaller boy's shoulder. he winced at the feeling of tubbo's skin, heat no longer radiating off him like when they were outside, fighting dream. tears sprung to his eyes.

"but tubbo, what am i without you?"

"yourself."

the world stopped spinning. all tommy could do was stare into tubbo's eyes as they lost their vibrancy. he wasn't ready to say goodbye.

"you're really just accepting this?"

"i don't think i have the choice." he looked down at his arm, the hand he'd held over the wound now resting limply in his lap. dried blood coated the fingertips, dripping down into the reservoir of his palm. the wound had given up gushing, the skin now pulsing emptily.

"tommy?"

"y-yeah?"

"make sure to tell my story, okay? i don't wanna be forgotten."

"you won't be forgotten, tubbo. i-- no one will forget you. i promise."

"okay. i'll miss you tommy."

"i'll miss you too." tears fell from his eyes quickly, making his cheeks wet and cold. his eyes fell out of focus and tubbo became a mess of vague colors and blobs against the black background.

"i'll miss you more than you know, tubbo."


End file.
